Early Spring of 1928
by Koala Monkey
Summary: {Human AU/Part of the Sodor Chronicles series, in between one-shot} Gordon and Caitlin go for a picnic. The former of the two plans to use their elusive bit of private time to his advantage. (PG-13, some adult 'implications' in this one)


A/N: This story is a part of my human au/The Sodor Chronicles series and takes place AFTER the first installment (The Diesel Affair). Please read that first! This is also a more 'adult' story, nothing explicit but there are definitely implications of things, so if you're not of appropriate age please...idk, ask your parents first or something lol. Caitlin also speaks some Irish Gaelic in here, I think it'll make sense in context. All terms of endearment.

* * *

How they had managed, beyond all odds, to carve out this afternoon together was something Gordon couldn't entirely fathom. They had done it, sure, but it seemed so preposterous given most days they were fortunate to have a couple of hours in one another's private company, _without_ interruptions. With all of their respective, individual responsibilities and jobs that took up so much of every day, it was _so lovely_ to have an afternoon clear of burden and concern, just the two of them, their horses, the warm spring air, clear weather and picnic basket.

Gordon had tried to solicit the efforts of the family cook, but Caitlin wouldn't hear of it. She still hadn't quite acclimated to the concept of being wait on by a hired staff and preferred doing the honors herself, besides. She'd always been very self-sufficient in that way, more so than Gordon imagined he'd ever had to be on his own. He was learning from her, however, day by day.

"How did you like the corned beef?" Caitlin asked after a sip of champagne. She'd long ago discarded her riding coat, her shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbow and her golden hair was somewhat tousled from the wind of the ride, catching the light of the afternoon sun as it flickered through the leaves of the lazy tree above them. Gordon marveled that someone could look so beautiful.

"I liked it fine," Gordon replied honestly, though he was preoccupied with the mussed, sunlit shade of beauty that had been introduced to him. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect an Irishman to turn up with the boiled stomach lining of a lamb or some such thing, so _this_ was a welcome surprise."

Caitlin giggled. "I can oblige you next time, if you like."

"If I had reason to believe lamb's stomach meant the world to you, I'd suffer it gladly," he assured, carding his fingers through a bit of her tousled hair and then cupping her cheek to better press a lingering kiss to her lips. _One_ clearly wasn't going to be sufficient, however, as she'd run a hand up his back, over his shoulder blade to better press him close to her.

"Always such a gentleman," she commended, a bit absently as her focus was moreover dedicated to guiding him more on top of her as she reclined into the picnic blanket. How could he refuse when she was laid out so splendidly?

"You don't much like the way I live, do you?" he half whispered to her skin as he pressed nectarous kisses into the soft slope of her neck. This pulled her a bit from the sensual ecstasy she'd begun to fall under. "Wh-...what? What do you mean…?"

"Maids, butlers, house staff…" Gordon continued, punctuating his words with kisses to the hollow of her throat, along her clavicle. "You don't care for those things. I hope you don't think less of me."

"For having a house staff-…? _A chuisle_. Don't be ridiculous."

There was a certain impatience to her voice now, as if she couldn't fathom why Gordon was _suggesting_ such unpleasant things while _doing_ such pleasant things to her. This wasn't exactly romantic talk, he realized.

"We wouldn't have to have one in our house," Gordon said. "Not if it made you uncomfortable."

Caitlin stilled and inhaled sharply.

"... _our_ house…?"

Gordon pulled back from her (with much reluctance) and reached into his pocket. One had to take the opportunities that came, and considering how seldom their time alone together was he had no intention to waste anymore of it. God only knew when the chance would come again, after all. The sight of it made Caitlin's eyes go wide and she sat up straight.

"... _Gordon_ …? You'd better have a _very_ good reason for pulling a ring sized box on me without warning…!"

He smiled knowingly.

" _Well_ , if you consider a marriage proposal to be a good reason…"

She was kissing him again all at once, firmly, lovingly, tearfully. "Yes…" she answered in between breaths. "A thousand times yes, mo shíorghrá."

"You haven't even seen the ring yet!" he teased between their mouths.

"It could be made of twine for all I care. The answer is yes. _Yes_."

The debates of whether or not they would employ a staff could come much later. They were eager for each other and Gordon had no intention to disappoint either of them, especially when his heart was swelling so warm and big at her happy acceptance. He wouldn't have blamed her for refusing. And yet-!

* * *

They arrived back to the estate in the early evening, having put themselves back together as best they could. They had the benefit of having gone horseback riding, after all, and could blame quite a bit of the tousled giddiness on that activity alone. Well-...to a point.

The family was playing cards in the courtyard and their reaction to the reappearance of the couple was not at all ideal; James seemed to all at once guess what had happened and surveyed Gordon with the same licentious smirk that usually preempted his older brother getting into trouble. Emily all but gasped out loud when she all once realized what must have been suggested by their mussed hair and glowing faces- Gordon didn't want to imagine _why_ she would know, but he'd have to remember to have a word with Victor later. Worst of all, his father narrowed his eyes and surveyed them and sucked in on his cigar in that judging manner that _always_ indicated he knew exactly what was afoot, but this time (perhaps due to being pleased his son had achieved that which he thought he never would) shrugged and returned his attention to his hand. Lady Hatt seemed to be the only soul present that hadn't the foggiest indication of anything. _Thank god_ for that, anyway.

"I trust you both had a pleasant outing?" she asked with an innocent smile. His mother had taken a special liking to Caitlin and was always quite pleased to see them in each other's company.

"I trust they _did_ ," James supplied before either of them could answer. "Then again, I suppose a _vigorous ride_ could make anyone giddy."

Emily tried (and failed) to bury her laugh in her cards. Sir Topham sent both of his children a warning glare. Caitlin blushed harder than Gordon had ever seen. Blessedly, he knew how to remove the focus from Emily and James' attempts to expose their public indiscretion.

"I'm afraid the _horses_ had very little to do with anything," Gordon corrected with a cough. "We do, in fact, have an announcement."

He looked to Caitlin in offering to do the honors. She seemed both thrilled at the prospect _and_ to have everyone's focus redirected.

"Gordon has asked me to marry him," she said, clutching his arm proudly. "And...I've _gladly_ accepted."

Lady Hatt all but shrieked in excitement, threw her cards to the wind and ran to both of them in a flurry of words ("Gordon, why didn't you tell me?" "What sort of ring did he procure? Oh, I hope it was to your liking- Gordon, I might have given you your grandmother's if you had but told me!") Emily, also pleasantly shocked, ran over to hug Caitlin and claim her as a new sister. James was aghast (the first step to him pouting for a month that the focus and attention would be on Gordon now) and Sir Topham just stared in disbelief.

Gordon knew it would take his father some time to truly accept that this had happened, but acceptance from his entire family or not, he couldn't care at all. The only thing that truly mattered -that, perhaps, had ever truly mattered- was the happiness of his future wife and the life that he so direly hoped he could offer her.


End file.
